An Outsider's Chronicle
by aristades
Summary: -- An Andalite scout stranded on Earth finds human allies.-- Formerly "Misfortune." Finally got a real working title. R-rated for language, sexuality and drug-use.
1. Chapter 1

******Author's Note**: This has been in the works for a long time. It's really a personal story, and it's going to end up very long. I'm transcribing it more for myself than for others, so if you don't like it, criticism via review is welcome, but I'm not going to make many alterations. If you catch any major mistakes, or have any questions, I'd like to hear about it.

**Disclaimer**: This is K.A. Applegate's world. I'm just playing in it.

* * *

(I think I found it!) I exclaimed involuntarily, looking up from the microscope for the first time in hours.

(Found what?) Feiranel-Semitur-Lusathi asked scathingly, which, I suppose is reasonable considering I'd just brought her intense meditation to an abrupt end.

(The last exon,) I explained.

(Are you still working on that thing, Scout Alcolrec?) Feiranel asked contemptuously. _That thing_, she called it. That thing would someday be the toast of the Andalite military. Or so I vehemently hoped.

(It will be invaluable to the Fleet,) I retorted, with more confidence than I felt.

(Morphing is an obsolete technology. Even you scouts rarely make use of it,) Like many warriors, Feiranel came off as being too proud, though some would call it arrogance. Why would she be interested in morphing technology? _She_ had never made use of it. Modern warfare had evolved to the point that the ability to assume other forms was useless next to the damage that could be caused by a shredder. Especically the bulky, powerful shredder Feiranel kept by her side at all times.

(_Because of its flaws_. Which are remedied by my design.) Once it is completed; _if_ I can complete it, I added silently.

(You are wasting your time, Scout Alcolrec.)

(Perhaps. But this has been a long journey.) A very long journey.

(Which is coming to its end. We should reach Earth's orbit in... 8 hours. Wrap it up Scout, it's time to work.) She rose to her feet and approached the operations console.

My name is Alcolrec-Sharnicar-Taguara. I am an Andalite scout. My squadron was sent to your planet to establish the extent of the Yeerk invasion, and to locate the headquarters of the Yeerk high command. You see, the Yeerk invasion of your planet has already begun. We are not sure why they have chosen your planet, but all indicators point to Earth as the site of the next major Yeerk invasion. And we cannot let them win more ground. They are already too powerful.

We left the Dome ship _Centhoneb_ as six units of five Model-16 fighters. Each unit was assigned to one of the inhabited continents of Earth. Each fighter contained one scout, and one warrior for protection, or "babysitting," as the warriors were known to term it. We had twenty days to reach Earth, and twenty for reconnaissance, with fifteen to make it back to main bulk of the Fleet in the Girylbel System. Sounds simple.

Not really. First, our scout fighters are older models, and incredibly unreliable. We were already 12 hours behind schedule. Second, my companion for the trip was Feiranel, a prickly female at best. I had known her from youth training, by some odd coincidence. Both of our father's had been minor princes in the Hork-Bajir wars. We were both training to be warriors. Part of her contempt for me stemmed from the fact that I had dropped out of the academy. Well, not exactly dropped out. I had resigned, because I wanted to focus on science. When my father came back he was outraged, but it was too late for me to go back. After my punishment, we compromised. I would train to be a scout, and my free time would be my own. So I became a scout, well versed in the ways of reconnaissance and camouflage. By the time my training ended I found that I liked it. My training opened me up to a world of new places and ideas, far beyond the typical narrow Andalite rhetoric. No other soldier has quite the same background in interplanetary politics, customs, and philosophies.

This did not stop Feiranel from looking down her nose at me. I was an excellent scout, but I had dropped out of warrior training years ago, and this, at least to her, made me inferior.

Feiranel had her own private shame, and it rankled her that I was aware of it. Her uncle was War-Prince Alloran, and the Semitur family was disgraced by both his actions on the Hork-Bajir homeworld and his subsequent infestation by a Yeerk, making him the only Andalite controller in existence. Her family's disgrace was known all over our homeworld, as she was only too aware. Perhaps this venture to another world was a welcome respite to her, but it was nearly impossible to tell.

I had figured on spending the bulk of the travel time working on my project, the improved Escafil-Alcolrec Device. The old Escafil device is a palm-sized cube that is capable of giving Andalites the ability to absorb the DNA of members of Kingdom Animalia, and morph into that animal. A wonderful invention that symbolized the Andalite civilization at the height of it's power, providing a highly scientific new form of art and recreation. And war. Few Andalite warriors used this technology, stating truthfully that few things in the universe are as dangerous as a trained Andalite warrior and his tail blade. Many opted to be equipped with this capability in the name of preparation, nevertheless, but a significant percentage scornfully disdained the use of this "outdated" and "useless" military technology. Scouts, however, found it useful in espionage, reconnaissance, and concealment.

The morphing technology has its drawbacks. Only two Earth hours can be spent in morph before it is impossible to change back. The process of morphing takes anywhere between two to four of your minutes, which can be an incredible liability in a fight or flight situation. And of course, consecutive morphs are impossible, meaning that the wearer must return to their natural form before assuming another, all of which drains the body's energy. The old Escafil device had been around for years, and no one had been of yet able to improve the design.

My "Escafil-Alcolrec Device" promised to change all that, if I could straighten out the theory on which it was based. I wanted to use exons, the "junk" sections of all natural DNA. You see, most creatures use only 5-10% of their own DNA strands, and these parts are called introns. The remainders, the exons, are not used in any real way by the body after birth. So theoretically, rather than having the DNA strands of acquired animals existing free in the bloodstream, as the technology works now, the genetic code of the animal could be directly copied onto one's own DNA, replacing the exons.

It's difficult to explain. But suffice it to say that nearly all the problems with the existing process would be eliminated. I just wasn't sure if my idea would work, or whether it would be fraught with a completely new set of complications. It was very tedious to work out, because of the difficulty in locating portions of communal DNA which could be isolated and rewritten.

(Scout Alcolrec, we have a matter of hours until we reach Earths orbit, and I will need your aid in formatting landing procedures and selection of a suitable site. Please cease what you are doing,) Feiranel prompted with a sneer.

I gazed back to my latest work in progress and sighed. It would be a long morning.

------  
  
We were getting a readout on the status of the other members of our reconnaissance team. It appeared that the other four ships in our unit had made much better time than we had. I stared glumly at the screen in front of me, and relayed this to Feiranel. -Units 1 and 3 have already made planetfall, but have not as of yet reported back. Units 2, 4 and 5 are behind us. The rest of our unit is orbiting the larger satellite moon of the 4th planetary body, waiting for our arrival.-

(It is due to your incompetence in planning this flight that we have been delayed, Scout.)

(Yes, but your ineffectual piloting made us detour back at the Calari sector.)

Feiranel sniffed. (Inform them of our arrival.)

(Encoding the message,) I responded, watching the screen. A flash in the right hand corner alerted me. (I think this communication is being picked up by a foreign source.)

(Is it the Yeerks?)

(No way of knowing for sure.)

A voice emanated from the speaker, our squad leader. (Ah, Scout, you have arrived at last. I expect a report when we return to the fleet, detailing the reasons for your delay.)

(Yes, sir. Sir, before you continue, I believe this transmission is being intercepted.)

(Impossible. Our codes haven't been broken in centuries. We've been looking into the cause... It's probably a human device; they have many of them orbiting this planet. Even if we are detected they couldn't begin to comprehend it.)

The squad leader looked confident, but I've often felt overconfidence will be the undoing of my race. In this case, I had done my homework concerning the planet Earth. I knew that his words could not be true.

(Negative, sir. Human satellites are technologically incapable of picking up any Andalite frequency. It must be the Yeerks.)

His features darkened. Someone was about to get into trouble for that particular oversight. (This is being looked into. Please maintain course and hold for more information.)

Even Feiranel looked concerned. She shifted uneasily at the ops consol, but said nothing. I continued scanning the information sensors brought.

(Sir, I believe it is the Yeerks.)

(Simply not possible, Scout. Our sensors should pick up emanations from any Yeerk vessel close enough to read our signals. Even a clocked vessel would have been long ago detected.)

(I don't know, sir, it seems to be a Yeerk frequency...)

At that moment, all doubt was resolved. Ahead of us, its ominous shape looming large against the blackness of space, was a Yeerk blade ship backed by a small fleet of bug fighters.

The communication console blinked once more. (All ships retreat! Meet at the rendezvous point.) It did not reactivate. Battle was being joined.

It was short and bloody. Even as my comrades attempted to make their escape, more bug fighters uncloaked and cut them off. The obliteration of our leader's ship distracted me momentarily from the evasive maneuvers that were all that were saving us from meeting the same fate. Feiranel looked at me with a fear I had never seen before, with her, and cried, (Make for Earth, they won't expect that!)

(Earth will be too heavily defended!)

(It's our only chance. We're being slaughtered.) Even as she spoke another scout ship exploded in the air.

I spun the ship around and powered the engines. We were swamped with bug fighters, but Feiranel's expert shooting kept them at bay. While she fought, I recalibrated our emissions trail and sent out an urgent SOS to the main Fleet. (YEERKS HAVE CRACKED CODE. SCOUTING MISSION ABORTED. UNITS 1, 3 ,and 6 DISSOLVED. BE ON GUARD!) The Yeerks had set up an ambush by changing the signatures of their ships, but I could do this same to our scout vessel, and pass thought their defenses unhindered. I hoped. But I needed to try to warn my people.

We entered Earth's atmosphere joltingly, passing the island continent where our scout mission would have taken us, and hurtled towards the ocean. We may have escaped the Yeerks, but something was wrong with our ship!

(What is it?) I asked urgently.

(Our atmospheric controls were already off, but our sensor grid was mostly damaged during the dogfight. We cannot land.)

(Can we steer manually and clear the ocean?)

(Let's try.)

Somehow, we pulled our vessel out of a nosedive and shot over the vast ocean. To the east, a coastline soared into view. Too quickly. We were going to crash! (We need to put her down or we'll combust!) I urged.

(Leave the ship. We'll take a safety pod!)

On this outdated ship, the safety pod was a cramped little thing. There was barely enough room for Feiranel and I to stand, and extremely minimal controls. We ejected from our ship into the atmosphere hastily, but even as we did I realized our mistake. Momentarily we would be safe, but the safety pod was unshielded and undisguised. Any Yeerk who looked up would notice us. Not to mention any human. And there was still the danger that a bug fighter from the ambush had followed us.

Our ship sailed beneath us, heading downwards to certain destruction. It was cloaked, but the safety pod still registered its presence in the sensors. Feirenal and I watched, silently. It signaled the end of our scouting mission, and the end of our old lives. Some new fight was beginning. As it fell into the midst of a dense forest, I was surprised at the lack of a massive fireball. The shields must have maintained much more integrity than Feiranel had indicated. The craft had torn a furrow in the forest as it landed, but this was not as evident from the air as you might think. If it was not damaged, we could return to it....

Feiranel had the same thoughts, (Stay aloft as long as possible so that we can detract attention from the ship, and get back to it at some point. You did disguise our signature, Alcolrec?)

As we soared over the downed craft, I mentally marked its location. (The Yeerks should not be able to find it unless they discover it on the ground, or in a fly-over. Statistically, this is unlikely, given that they had no information about our intended arrival site on this vast planet, and that they may not even be aware that we escaped the battle.)

(Do _we_ have any information about our intended arrival site?) Feiranel asked.

(We are in the north, close to a massive conurbation on the western continent.)

In the viewscreen, the horizon was rushing up towards us at an alarming speed. Sensors indicated that a small squadron of Bug fighters was hot on the heels of our escape pod. This was an ending. I held my breath as we slammed into the earth.


	2. Chapter 2

In the future I'll be responding to questions and comments at the bottom of each new installment. I've also decided to use (this) instead of –this- to represent thoughtspeak, because it's less disruptive and I tend to overuse hyphens anyway. Enjoy.  
  
As always, this is KA Applegate's marvelous world and I'm just borrowing it.

* * *

The door of our escape pod slid open with a muted hiss. There was no time to think or be afraid, and so I took the first steps out into this forest of planet Earth with deliberate confidence. Feiranel took a bit longer. She was strapping two massive shredders to her back, and secreting other weapons and knives about her body. I took nothing. My most powerful weapon flowed through my very veins.  
  
I guess you could say that Feiranel was attractive, by Andalite standards. I had always been put off by her toughness. You know, in ancient times, Andalite females were not permitted to participate in warfare because of their smaller stature and weaker tail blades. Times changed, especially as firearms replaced blade-to-blade combat and it became clear that females were equally capable of aiming and firing.  
  
Feiranel was more than capable. I have no doubt that in time she will be able to clash tails with the greatest old warriors of my people. I had known her when we were younger; when we were arisths together. She had already been studying combat for several years and was consistently at the top of the academy. She trained constantly. She was as strong and quick and fast as any male. She was a quick study in every aspect of martial technique taught at the academy from marksmanship to amphibious invasion. Her family was very proud. Feiranel herself seemed unaware of her excellence, as if all of her achievements had been effortless.  
  
This was only her second mission as a full Andalite warrior. But I was glad to have her on my side.  
  
As she left the escape pod, she pressed a button and entered a code in thoughtspeak. Turning to me, she asked, (You will be able to find our ship?).  
  
I nodded. I had memorized the coordinates of the area where our ruined ship had come to rest, and I knew the direction and distance we would need to travel to get there from our present position. Andalites are rather good at things like that. We just needed to hope that nothing would drive us too far off course. And that our pursuit would not be too close on our heels. We had landed in a forest, which would slow our enemy down, but it also hampered our own movement.  
  
Feiranel watched calmly as the escape pod combusted with an odd "pupp" sound. Andalite self destruct codes are very efficient, even in older models. For us this was good; no one searching for us would see or hear an explosion. I still got shivers up my spine as I watched the tiny vehicle vanish in a swirl of iridescent particles.  
  
(We're going to have to move fast.) As she said it, she looked disgustedly at me. I guess you could say that I'm not in the best physical shape for an Andalite. I did not even approach the condition that Feiranel kept herself in. It had been years since I had left academy, and scouts don't really make an effort to maintain their physical strength. Well, some of us do. Not me, though. I had spent the better part of the last year researching humans, and working on the technique for my new Escafil device. I looked more like a civilian than a soldier, although I was technically a member of the military. And I would definitely not be able to keep pace with Feiranel-- in my Andalite form.  
  
(Run ahead! I will be able to track you,) I told her. (I have a morph that is very quick, and will also help if we are forced to stand our ground. Go that way,) I indicated with a dip of my head.  
  
Feiranel looked doubtful, and I could tell her mind was full of questions. I could also tell that she did not want to leave me. It was her mission to protect me.  
  
(Go!) I shouted. (I am morphing an ungach!)  
  
She actually smiled. She wheeled and ran off quickly in the direction of our ship.  
  
I had already begun the change. An ungach is an uncomplicated morph for an Andalite. My legs became thinker and sturdier. I experienced a dry feeling as my digestive tracts retreated up my legs from the pads in my hooves, but the hooves themselves remained the same, only broader and larger. The fur that covered my body became thinner and longer, and turned gray-green in color. My tail sucked into my body, replaced by a useless stump, which is always disconcerting for an Andalite. But even as I lost the deadly tail blade that is an Andalites primary mechanism for defense, the horns of the ungach sprang threatening forward over my elongating face.  
  
The history of the ungach species is an enthralling study. They had been grazers, and roamed the vast plains of their planet as the dominant lifeform. Originally they looked like most grazers do-- slender legs for quick, fast movement; flat grinding teeth set in a long muzzle. The most remarkable aspect of the ungach was their branched horns, which, on a mature male, were a magnificent display intended to attract a mate. These horns were actually jointed at the base, which meant that the animal could rotate and move them, but only slightly. Females possessed an atrophied, but still impressive, rack.  
  
Over time, the ungach slowly became omnivorous, augmenting their diet of grass with carrion and small prey. However, sometime in the last millennium, disaster struck their planet. A massive asteroid made impact along the equatorial line, spewing up billions of tons of dirt, ash, and gases into the atmosphere. Solar rays struggled to pierce the dense cloud that now blanketed this unfortunate world. All life was choked, and either adapted or died off.  
  
The ungach survived. Certain of them had experienced an evolutionary shift beforehand which left them better equipped for consuming meat. Their teeth were sharper, and their digestive tracts were modifying themselves. As darkness descended on the planet, the herbivorous ungach strain disappeared along with the majority of the plant life. And the omnivorous strain began to change. They began to feed on the smaller carnivores of the planet. They lost the ability to eat plants altogether, and learned how to kill.  
  
Naturally, a grazer has very few defenses aside from its speed. The ungach were forced to undergo dramatic changes in order to survive on their ruined world. Their antler racks, which had always had a measure of flexibility, gained the movement capacity of an Andalite wrist. The antler's edges, formerly dull and coated with downy fuzz, became razor sharp, and pointed at the tips. They gained all the senses and instinct of a predator. As their world gradually repaired itself, the earth sprouted trees instead of grass. The ungach planet grew into a patchwork of field and forest, much like Earth. New life developed. And the prehistoric ungach ruled it all.  
  
The ungach that exists today still retains some hint of it's gentle origins. The hooves, the build of it's torso, it's long neck, the swiftness. But you have only to look at the spears springing from its head, or the sharpness of its toothy smile, to know that you are looking at a killer.  
  
As I completed the morph, the hunter's instinct kicked in. A whole new world of sight and smell had eclipsed the still forest I had stood in a few minutes again. It wasn't difficult to overcome, for despite it's ancient origins, the ungach never developed advanced intelligence. Also, learning to control a difficult morph is one of the first tasks a scout must master. A tool is no good if it cannot be wielded with control. I scented Feiranel's tracks darting off into the wilderness, and fell into an easy lope to catch up.  
  
I could smell Ferianel's exertion as she had run. It was near her full speed, but we had a long distance to travel, and she was saving her energy. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly as if she were holding herself back for me. She knew that the ungach could outrun any Andalite in a forest. Easily.  
  
My powerful legs propelled me through the underbrush a high speed. My horns were rotated back against my neck, out of the way of low-hanging branches and entangling vines. I could sense life all around me, strange life, but I forced myself to focus on the trail. If the nose of the ungach had not been so adept at tracking I would have lost her. She left almost no visible evidence of her passing. I would like to think that I had not either, but with a creature the size of an ungach, my passage would be difficult to disguise. I was easily three times my normal size. Would the Yeerks be able to follow it? If they were tracking us on foot, they had likely brought Hork-Bajir. Hork-Bajir could move extremely fast through the treetops, and fairly fast on the forest floor. But their instincts were those of bark-eating tree-dwellers. I wasn't sure how well they could follow a trail in Earth's woods.  
  
I soon overtook Feiranel, who was running quite swiftly. I was glad I had taken the time to change forms, or else I would never have been able to catch her. We continued our odyssey, her slim legs flashing like lightning, my massive ones trotting beside her.  
  
I guessed that we were at least ten hours away at this pace from our ship. This meant that I would need to stop and demorph several times before our destination. You can only remain in morph for around 125 human minutes before the change becomes permanent. (Feiranel, soon I'm going to have to take a break and demorph,) I told her.  
  
(Do you think we're being followed?)  
  
(Undoubtedly.)  
  
She scowled. (No, I mean, do you think they are far behind?)  
  
(When the wind shifts I can smell them.) She didn't look surprised or worried. She smelled calm. I admired her fearlessness. (When the time limit is nearly reached I'll run ahead and return to Andalite form and then morph to ungach again. I'll wait for you. You should be able to follow my trail.)  
  
(Scout Alcorec, what do we do when we get to the ship?)  
  
It was nice of Feiranel to ask me. Usually she just told me. I attributed her uncertainty to her lack of knowledge about Earth and humans. It was a valid question.  
  
(It depends on the state of the ship. If we're able to make repairs, we should try to get her airbourne and contact the fleet. You know basic engineering?)  
  
(I can try. I may have… forgotten.)  
  
Feiranel was a typical warrior. All Andalites learn certain basic skills by primary school, but very few maintain that knowledge throughout their life. Warriors in particular are notorious for their scorn of academics. I grunted at her answer.  
  
(Are you laughing, Scout?)  
  
(Of course not.) We were both silent for a moment.  
  
(We'll figure everything out when we get back to the ship. We'll contact our Prince. The fleet is on its way here.)  
  
(Alright.)  
  
-------  
  
The first, second and third demorphings occurred without incident. By the time I had re-assumed ungach form, Feiranel would come bounding out of the trees. Her facial slits fluttered with exertion at this point. She was wearing herself down. I'm sure she wished she, too, could morph into a larger creature who could handle the distance and speed with ease.  
  
Feiranel's disdain for morphing technology was more than the typical warrior contempt. I had heard a rumor once that she was unable to use the morphing technology. Quite a few Andalites develop allergies to a particular strand of DNA. A very, very, small number of them are allergic to the morphing technology itself. The body rejects the ability to take another form. This is why your first morph is always done with supervision, so that action can be taken if you are one of the unfortunate few. Morphing specialists can tell in the first few seconds if something is going wrong because the body had rejected the biotechnology, and circumvent disaster. For those with the allegy, the morphing process is fatal.  
  
It could be true that Feiranel was one such an individual. She had never said anything to me. It would explain her prickliness on the subject. Or it could just be the typical warrior pride that tinged her every action. I knew for a fact she was not morph capable, but whether this was because of an allergy, or just because she had never acquired the ability was impossible to guess.  
  
About halfway through our journey, I knew Feiranel needed a rest. She was probably too proud to admit it, but she had pushed herself too hard initially.  
  
(Listen, Feiranel, I no longer can scent our trackers. The wind is blowing from behind us, and I would smell them if they approached.) I peered with the ungach's eyes into the forest ahead. (I think I see a clearing. We could stop and eat.)  
  
(Are you hungry, Scout?) Feiranel asked. I wondered if she was going to insist on continuing.  
  
(Very.)  
  
(We will stop a few minutes.) Even Feiranel could not disguise the relief in her voice as she said it.  
  
The clearing that I had glimpsed was actually a vast field of green-gold grass. Heaven for a hungry Andalite. I had heard that the grass on Earth was quite palatable. I returned to my native form eagerly and raced through the grass.  
  
Feiranel was moving slower, her body taxed from a half-day's flight through the forest. I think she was enjoying the moment as well, but it is always difficult to be sure, with her.  
  
Ahead of us the field experienced a rise in elevation. At the apex of this hill were a small strand of trees and a small rock formation. It was quite striking, and reminded me of the deliberate arrangements that we Andalites were famous for creating on our own world. I fed for a little bit more and called out to Feiranel, (Isn't this wonderful?)  
  
(It is an interesting world, Alcorec.)  
  
(I will race you to the crest of that hill,) I said, my sudden elation tinging the sound of my voice with happiness. She didn't respond, but I ran up the slope of the hill anyway.  
  
To be honest, I had expected some sort of panoramic view. As I neared the strand of trees, I was greeted with a different landscape than I expected.  
  
(Well, Andalite, you took a bit longer than I had expected.)  
  
I didn't need to see the source of the thoughspeak to know who the speaker was. I could tell from the evil that permeated his words. An Andalite stood at the foot of the hill below me, a Dracon cannon trained to my position. An Andalite-Controller. Visser Three. Ringing him to either side were aliens—humans—toting massive Dracon beams. As I wheeled away from them, I heard the metallic sound of these beams being brought to the shoulder and aiming at me. As if that weren't enough, at the Visser's command, a troop of around ten Hork-Bajir-Controller warriors began loping up the hill in their nightmarish bodies.  
  
(Feiranel, we've got company!) As I shouted these words she began running towards me, eager for battle. But not before the Yeerk Dracon cannon reduced the tree I had been standing in front of to a shattered, blazing torch.

* * *

I thought this would be a short chapter! Well, this is the style that I'll be writing in. Sorry if it's too slow for some people. I'll try to get chapters up earlier in the week, but I've been working on this a lot, trying to get as much down as possible before the summer ends.  
  
I spent a lot of time describing the ungach because it's Alcolrec's primary battle morph, for obvious reasons, and you'll be seeing it again. For those of you who still can't picture it, imagine a moose. Make it bigger and greenish. Take the face and make it more wolflike. Take the antlers and imagine them as being much slimmer and deadlier, and raking forwards. Maybe it's not the most original alien creature, but I wanted Alcorec to have something functional and deadly. It always kind of bugged me that Ax had never acquired any useful alien morphs. It makes more sense that a morph-capable Andalite would have a full arsenal of alien morphs for use in various scenarios.  
  
**Questions  
Brutal2003:** Copying animal DNA onto our own DNA could have certain side effects on the original DNA. However, the intron/exon thing is biologically proven. Humans only use around 10% of their DNA. So theoretically you could completely copy the DNA of 9 different other animals onto our DNA. I'll get in to more about this later. It doesn't play a big part initially, because Alcorec is reluctant to use himself or others as a guinea pig for testing his new Escafil device. However, your question is sound: rewriting human DNA with that of an animal will ultimately have unintended consequences.  
  
**Wraithlord42**: I'm assuming this story will ultimately be rated R for sexuality, drug use, and violence. The first five chapters or so will really only be an introduction to the full story. Feel free to contact me with further criticism if you like. I don't believe I "flamed" River Griffon. Let me just say that that is the type of feedback I myself would like to receive if it is merited. I was just being honest, and I tried to provide suggestions so that I wasn't completely negative.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm being really ambitious about these updates. It'll never last. I just wanted to get this chapter up on my birthday. :D  
  
**Disclaimer**: Most of this is the intellectual property of KA Applegate. You know.

* * *

All of Feiranel's fatigue vanished as she raced up the slope of the hill to my aid, unclipping one of the huge shredders she carried on her back. Reaching the crest, she unloaded round after round of heavy fire on the Yeerk ambush. One shot took out the Dracon cannon before it could reload, and another caused a Human-Controller to crumple to the ground.  
  
(Morph! I'll cover you!) She didn't need to order me to do it. I had already ducked behind the cover of the rock formation and begun the transition to the fearsome alien predator. There were still flashes of light as Dracon beams sliced through the hilltop and rained havoc on the small grove of trees. I could no longer see Feiranel. She must have charged the Hork-Bajir.  
  
I could hear the thoughtspeak of the Abomination. (Oh Andalite warriors! You have been foolish! Why would we have needed to track you when we could see within a few human miles that your tracks were following a straight line!)  
  
I cursed to myself. Stupidity! And all the Yeerks would need to do after we were dead is follow along that same line to discover our downed ship.  
  
Well, we weren't dead yet.  
  
Visser Three continued to taunt us. (Why would I need to waste my Hork-Bajir's time on your trail, when I could intercept you in the location of my choice with a small army and kill you myself. I have a morph that I've saved especially for occasions like this!)  
  
I couldn't see him, but I knew that he had begun the morphing process. I was nearly fully ungach. If we were to survive, Feiranel and I would need to be very far away by the time the Visser had completed his own morph. That gave us perhaps three human minutes. Maybe less.  
  
(Poor little Andalite warriors. Perhaps I should have let you continue. Didn't you know you were about to run straight into a human city? A human city that is filled with my people, one which I have made my stronghold!) The Visser crowed triumphantly.  
  
I emerged from behind the boulder. The Dracon fire that had threatened me in Andalite form barely singed my hair. It was time for me to show the Yeerks how the ungach killed.  
  
The ungach was fast, but it's teeth alone would be an ineffective tool to take down the large prey that it hunted. When an ungach killed, it put its head between its forelegs. It's neck was quite long and muscular, for once it had needed to reach the ground to harvest the short native grasses of it's planet. Now that long neck was a tool for killing.  
  
With its head down low and the sharp points of it's razor-sharp antlers flexed forward, the ungach would charge at its prey. Perhaps, without the benefit of its great speed, the antlers would not be so effective a weapon. And without the bladed antlers, the speed alone would not be as useful. But with both, the ungach will slam into it's prey with an immense force, usually killing instantly.  
  
As the three Hork-Bajir moving to intercept me soon found out.  
  
They weren't armed; their limited hand movement makes Dracon beams cumbersome. But then, in most cases, Hork-Bajir are weapons in themselves.  
  
I hit the first one square in the chest and he died immediately, skewered by at least four of my spear-like prongs. The second I hit with my left antler alone, but I pierced his neck and he lay there bleeding and fading. The force of the impact wrenched my head a little to the side, so I missed the third, who leapt over my deadly horns and began to slash away at my back. He only grazed my body thorugh the ungach's shaggy fur. I bucked him off and trampled his groaning body.  
  
I could see Feiranel engaging two other Hork-Bajir at the same time with ease. Four other bodies littered the ground around her, one completely blackened from short-range Shredder fire. She was a magnificent warrior to watch in action. I had not seen her fight since I left the academy, but now she was a fully grown fighter. And beautifully deadly. So I focused my attention on the Visser and what remained of his human entourage.  
  
The humans and their Dracon beams broke ranks and scattered as I guided my charging body in their direction. A few hit the ground, rolled and continued to fire at me. I took a few solid hits and shuddered in pain. Other humans just lay there where they landed. I assumed they were faking death. Yeerks are cowards.  
  
The Visser was partially morphed into a huge, amorphous being. Luckily, it was taking a long time to complete. He was still covered in blue and tan Andalite fur and skin, and was unable to move.  
  
(Alcolrec!!) Feiranel screamed in my head. I whirled away from the Visser's rapidly changing bulk.  
  
She had been bleeding profusely, but now blood gushed from a deep gash in her shoulder. This was not what had made her scream. She had incapacitated one of her Hork-Bajir opponents, but the other had completely severed her tail and was standing over her defenseless form menacingly.  
  
I was shocked. What would become of a warrior without a tail? As I ran to aid her, another Hork-Bajir leapt up at me from where he had been hidden in the tall grass. Without pausing I swept my horns forward, and pierced his torso with their prongs. I tossed my head effortlessly and the seven foot tall Hork-Bajir went flying through the air, behind me. I did not bother to see where he landed.  
  
I watched Feiranel coolly dispatch the last Hork-Bajir with one of the smaller shredders she had holstered at her side. Then she slumped to the ground and did not move. From the corner of my eye, I saw the Abomination complete his horrifying transformation and begin to move in our direction.  
  
I charged towards Feiranel, but as I did I rotated the angle of my horns so that the blunt underside was turned upwards. As I neared her prone form I slowed, and scooped my warrior protector gently into the harmless cradle formed by my horns. Well, perhaps I was a little rough. I was in a hurry.  
  
The creature the Visser had morphed was moving towards us. I was desperately injured from the point-blank Dracon fire I had sustained while dispatching the Human-Controllers. I needed to stop and demorph. I felt dizzy. But I did not wait for the Visser to show us exactly why he had picked that particular morph. He could save that for another day, and another ambush.  
  
I felt the strength and toughness of the ungach welling up within me as I used it's swiftness to carry myself, and Feiranel, far away from the battlefield.  
  
------  
  
Feiranel was unconscious for most of the ride I gave her. Sometimes when I stopped to demorph, she would stir, but she was weak from losing so much blood. She seemed to be coated in it. Her tail was hanging from it's base by a thread.  
  
I changed direction. I knew I had to skirt the human city that the Visser had mentioned. At one point I even crossed some obviously inhabited human lands, but by this time it was very late at night, and I disturbed no one. It was dark, and I could see the lights of human civilization on the horizon. I avoided them, and kept to the darkness of the woods. I could not sense any pursuit, and the erratic path I took ensured that the Visser would not be able to use the technique that had trapped us before.  
  
I was never lost. I am very good at orienting myself spatially, and so by the time this system's sun began to rise, the human city was behind me, and I was nearing the site of our ship's crash. I had pushed my ungach body to it's limits, and made good time. I felt dead.  
  
I was apprehensive as I approached the area where our ship had crashed, because the Visser had known by our earlier trail the axis along which our ship must be located. I could only hope Controllers had not found it in the night. Then that would be the end. I trusted that with daylight on the way, no Bug fighters would be able to do aerial surveillance.  
  
If I could get to the ship first, I could hide it's presence in a matter of hours. The Visser could send all the men he wanted to search the area afterwards. All he knew was that we were traveling in one general direction to reach our ship. He did not know how far we would be traveling in that direction. Once I could disguise the ship's location he would never find it. If I could find it myself.  
  
I stopped near a rocky outcrop that poked through the treetops, and lay Feiranel in the grass. She still did not move. Her hearts beat faintly. She was going to die. Her only hope was that I could find the ship and administer medical aid. If she had not been in such robust physical condition she would have been dead already.  
  
I demorphed to Andalite and immediately began a second morph. A kafit bird, from my own homeworld. Soon I flew above the trees, searching for a sign of the downed craft. I uneasily scanned the horizon for enemies at the same time.  
  
I almost didn't find it. At the end of a fruitless two hours of searching, I landed in a clearing to demorph. My choice of that location was nothing more than a natural Andalite affinity for open space that happened to be there as my time limit neared. And as I demorphed, I saw it. It had made impact at a low angle, skimming above the earth for some time. I could see a small furrow at the edge of the field where it had scraped against the ground. And I could see the tree at the edge that it had wrapped around and reduced to splinters.  
  
It was a miracle. It had crashed in such a way that it had produced a minimum of damage to the surrounding environment. I was confident that it would never be seen from the air, for it had landed far enough out of the open field that it was visibly shielded under the cover of the trees. All that time I had been scanning the treetops for a horrific crash site. If I had not landed at that particular end of that particular field, I would not have found it.  
  
I flew back to Feiranel at top speed. When I demorphed I noticed her eyes were open. (I'm sorry I had to leave you. I've found our ship. You must be in a lot of pain, but soon I'll have a medical kit to fix you up!) I tried to sound upbeat.  
  
(…A lot of pain,) she repeated sullenly. Then she said something so quietly that I could not make it out.  
  
(What?)  
  
(Kill me,) she stated weakly.  
  
(No!) I recoiled. I had come so far. We had made it! We had escaped! We were alive! Why would she ask for death?  
  
(Kill me,) she pleaded.  
  
(Look, if it's about your tail, there's an Escafil device back on the ship). She shook her head. (No, not the one I've been modifying. Another one. I'll bring you back to the ship, and then go catch an Earth creature. You will morph, and when you return to your Andalite body you will be whole once more.)  
  
She kept shaking her head at me. (You know I can not, Alcorec.)  
  
I stared dumbly. Those jealous whispered rumors at the academy were an evil truth. Her allergy was real. Feiranel would die. Even supposing I could heal her wounds, she would take her own life. An Andalite without a tail was never really alive afterward anyway.  
  
She had been such a great warrior.  
  
I didn't say anything. I morphed ungach and carried her cradled in my antlers to our ruined ship.  
  
-------  
  
(You have to kill me.)  
  
She lay unmoving on the bed I had made for her on the table in the room at the stern of our ship. But her eyes were alive, and glistened in a way that belied her imminent death. I had bandaged her wounds and done all I could for her.  
  
The ship was in much worse shape than the details of it's crash indicated. The Shredder attached to the back had been blown completely off in the initial dogfight. The impact with the tree and ground had completely crushed the nose of the ship, rendering the main chamber, where most of the controls were located, a crumpled mass of metal and wires. The rear engines and primary generator had caught fire when a leak in the fuel tank had ignited. This fire in the back of the ship had also incinerated our Z-space transponder and the spare that was kept for back-up. Commutations with my people were completely cut off.  
  
The secondary generator was intact, as was the atmospheric propulsion system. The latter was useless with the pitiful amount of fuel that remained in our last, dangerously damaged, tank. But the former would power itself for a long while, and provide enough energy to maintain a bootleg cloaking device and several minor systems. And one other thing.  
  
I'm sure I've mentioned that this particular ship was an older model. In fact, it was built before we Andalites had learned to use Z-space for intergalactic travel. It was built in the old days, where space travel was a tedious process, involving light-years of travel and many Andalite-years of time. I can vouch for the fact that there is nothing pleasant about extended travel in space. Feeding is done intravenously, and even the best company could get old. The scientists of those days had circumvented this by developing bio-stasis chambers for space farers. This technology kept the body absolutely frozen in a state of sleep throughout the duration of the journey. It was never used in modern times. Now, most distances could be journeyed in the space of a year, and in the comfort of a Dome ship. No one had to travel in the confined space of a fighter-class ship for more than the length of a month.  
  
Our scout ship had been modified in countless ways over the years, and no one had used the biostasis chambers in centuries. They esited as nothing more than a relic of more primitive days. Feiranel and I had used them as closets to store supplies.  
  
Now they would save her life.  
  
I had activated the chamber about an hour ago, waiting for it to power up and running diagnoses to check on all of its systems. It worked perfectly despite its long period of disuse. Feiranel had drifted in and out of consciousness.  
  
(Warrior Feiranel, I cannot kill you.)  
  
She stared accusingly at me.  
  
(I am placing you in stasis, here on this ship. The Andalite fleet will be here shortly, and when they do you will receive the best of care up on the Dome ship. The military doctors may have the capacity to reattach your tail.)  
  
(It's ruined,) she stated flatly. (I'd rather die.)  
  
I know she wanted to protest as I dragged her upright and leaned her gently into place in the bio-stasis chamber. Once I closed the lid, her body would be frozen at both the biological and chemical level. Her brain would not think. She could not even dream. But more importantly, her cells would not deteriorate. She would not age, and her wounds would not fester. There was a chance that if a trained surgeon arrived, her tail could be reattached and still retain movement. But it was badly damaged. She would never be the warrior she had been.  
  
(Don't do this, Alcorec! Just kill me now. I'll lose my tail, and I'll have to face the shame of having run away from battle!) This last burst of emotion surprised me.  
  
(I ran away. Not you. If I hadn't we would both be dead. Now you will live to fight another battle.)  
  
I looked at her. She did not look convinced, but she seemed resigned to the fate I had determined for her. She was too weak to protest further. (Alcorec..,) she whispered softly in thoughtspeak.  
  
(Feiranel.) You see, I knew what she wanted. She was an Andalite Warrior, and she would ask me to avenge her. She would ask me to kill Visser Three. I felt honored by this last display of kindness. (I will destroy him in your name. I will make the Abomination pay for what he has done to you.)  
  
She actually laughed. In her helpless state, she actually laughed. I did not yet know this for a fact, but what would ultimately turn out to be her final words to me were cruel. (Alcorec,…you are a miserable warrior… and a coward. You could not kill the Abomination. No… you must…. stay alive. No matter what. Tell my father…. ) She smiled at me, weakly and brutally. (You should have killed me… with honor, Scout…)  
  
I did not let her see how much her words had hurt as I slid the door of the stasis chamber shut and activated the process which would suspend her from the world of the living.  
  
Until the Andalite fleet arrived, I would be alone.

* * *

I didn't expect reviews to be so addictive. Whenever I get online now I compulsively check to see if anyone has left feedback. I need a hobby.  
  
I'm a little disappointed by the dearth of reviews so far. So, if you're reading this and you like it, leave a review. If you're reading this and you hate it, leave a review (and tell me why). If you're reading this and you're bored, let me know about it in a review.  
  
Make me happy. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: This is a shorter one; an essay of Alcolrec's thoughts. Edited 8/20/04

**Disclaimer**: I'm just standing on the shoulders of giants. By "giants," I mean KA Applegate, and by "standing on the shoulders of" I mean "borrowing the original ideas of."

* * *

I did not rest for many days after I first arrived at the ship. After tending to Feiranel, I was a little shaken, and work was a welcome distraction from my current situation.

Andalites crave open space, and so that made my decision to bury the wrecked ship a difficult one. But I knew that the area was likely to become a target for Yeerk searches, so careful and thorough concealment was necessary. A hologram, the ideal option, was out of the question. The ship was down to one power generator, and keeping the computer systems operating, especially that of the bio-stasis chamber, was sapping most of the available energy. So hiding the ship underground seemed the most rational solution.

The process of burying the ship was easier to execute than it sounds. Yes, the scout ship was very big. It had two levels, and three rooms aside from the bridge and engines. However, as I had mentioned before, our atmospheric controls were still viable. This included the thrusters for vertical takeoff and landing, which are located at the base of the ship. Typically, these do not damage the ground beneath them when they operate, but then again, typically they are not encased in the ground because of a violent crash landing. It's a little like the explosive toys made for Andalite children. If they are laid on the ground and the fuse is ignited they will make a loud sound as they detonate harmlessly. But if they are held in the hand, in a fist, they can be very destructive and you will lose one or two fingers.

It was very dangerous, because the fuel tanks were damaged and leaky. It could have been the ship that ignited, along with the thrusters. I was very cautious, and very lucky. I burned the thrusters in short bursts, gradually incinerating the ground beneath the ship until it lay nestled in a big ashy crater. It was much more difficult for me to bury the bulk of the ship in dirt and organic matter, but within a few Earth days the ground directly above my ship appeared undisturbed. Visibly, you could not detect its presence. The only possible method of discovery would be the ramp concealed in the shrubbery, which led down a short tunnel to one of the side entrances. In case there were any scans being done from space, for rare metals or complex machinery, I had built a simple cloaking device that would deflect such beams without drawing attention to the area or monopolizing too much of the limited power available.

That the crash landing itself had been so gentle was amazing. I don't believe in a higher power, but the location at which the ship had landed was also fairly miraculous. The ship had made impact in the woods, but bordering on a wonderful field. As I spent the first few days laboring with the ship, I truly came to appreciate its existence. The openness and beauty of this meadow more than made up for my cramped subterranean quarters. There was plenty of space to run and eat, and hardly any trees to block the sun's healing rays. On the far side of the meadow was a cool mountain stream. I can't imagine an environment on this planet more conducive to the lifestyle of an Andalite.

As I lived alone in these foreign woodlands, I tried to complete some work on my improved Escafil device, but my mind was distracted by anxious thoughts about my fate, and that of my people. I wasn't sure how soon the Andalite fleet would arrive. We had planned to attack the Yeerks after the completion of our scouting missions, in around seven Earth weeks. I often wondered if the frantic message I had sent out was received, and if the warning it contained would be heeded. If someone had read it, would they speed up the invasion, or delay it, knowing that the Yeerks knew our codes? Would they divert more of the Andalite military force to Earth, or would they decide to ignore this battlefield because of the threat the Yeerks posed?

What worried me more was the possibility that the fleet had not received my message. It was entirely within the realm of possibility. A million things could have gone wrong in the transmission, particularly when you take into account that we were under heavy enemy fire at the time. Had the Z-space transponder already been damaged?

I was worried because if that was the case, my people would fly right into a Yeerk trap. They would be crushed. It would be a decisive victory, and it would turn the tide of war in favor of the Yeerks.

I wondered if any of the other scout ships had survived. I had seen on the viewscreens, in the initial attack, how easily the Yeerks had dispatched the rest of my unit. We were unprepared. The Yeerks had heard every word of our communications, and then they had taken us by surprise. I wondered how many of our secrets they knew. I wondered how they had cracked our codes. I wondered when their cloaking and weapons technologies had gotten so advanced. And deep inside my hearts, I wondered if it was possible that one of my people had betrayed us. It made my blood run cold.

The Andalite commanders would be wary if none of the scout units met them at the rendezvous point. But I did not believe that they would let that mishap interrupt their attack on Earth. The military really looked down on their own scouts. They would never guess the terrible cause of our demise. The Yeerks wanted the Andalite fleet to arrive. So that they could destroy us.

These were the brooding thoughts that occupied my initial time on Earth. Five human weeks came and went. They were five long weeks, because I was alone, and because I was waiting. I couldn't patch together my ship's communications system, so I knew that I'd have to steal satellite data from the humans to see if my people had come. Humans still used radio waves, like many primitive civilizations, but I was able to modify my ships computers to receive information in that archaic form. It was actually quite simple.

So I would have known if my people came. It would be a little more difficult to make them aware of my presence, but I would have a variety of options available for contact if they defeated the Yeerks. And if it was the fleet that was defeated, then it would be a good thing that I remained hidden.

With thoughts like these swirling through my head as I lived alone in the woods, I believed I would soon become insane. The Andalite mind is very advanced, but with nothing to do but stay and wait, and with uncertainty and doubt filling my hearts, I worried for my mental health. I had always been termed "pensive" by my peers, but my isolation had made it ridiculous.

So at the conclusion of five weeks of waiting, I decided that I would perform the mission my Prince had ordered me to do, independent of the arrival of the fleet. If they were victorious, this knowledge would come in handy. Hadn't Visser Three claimed that this nearby city was his stronghold? I needed to discover the extent of the invasion, and gather as much information as possible about the strategy and techniques being used on Earth. Each Yeerk invasion is different.

I began by performing aerial surveillance of the area surrounding my new home. At one end of the field I was able to catch a large black bird feeding on the carcass of a dead herbivore. This was the first Earth morph I acquired. I have to say honestly that many Earth creatures are beautiful— absolute marvels of evolution. But many are not. Humans would fall into this latter category, as would this scavenger bird. It had a massive wingspan that was easily five human feet. It was black, and appeared very graceful and elegant while flying. However, its head was completely featherless, and was draped in loose shiny folds of skin.

I didn't like looking at the bird, but I _loved_ becoming one. It is a very powerful flier, even though it has only two wings. As an eater of carrion, it has evolved to be able to fly fairly low over long distances. At the same time, it is capable of soaring at great heights for long distances using minimal energy. It has very advanced eyesight, and a surprisingly adept sense of smell.

After experimenting with the bird's abilities, I decided that _this_ would be the morph I would use to begin my initial observations of the humans. During my flyovers of the woodlands, I frequently saw troops of Hork-Bajir, but they had never come near my hidden ship. I also encountered several humans traveling through the woods, which I assumed to be a form of human leisure activity, and they too usually avoided the area immediately around my ship. The very remoteness of the site in which it had crashed served to help cloak it's presence.

The next step in my scouting operation would be exploring the outskirts of this vast coastal city. Even from the air I could see how complex human society was, and how difficult it would be to infiltrate. I would need to acquire a human morph to walk through their streets as one of them.

So in the end I was finally doing the job I came to Earth to do.

* * *

The bird Alcolrec refers to is a black vulture. In case that wasn't immediately clear.  
  
I haven't thought of a permanent title for this. "Misfortune" is only a step up from the "Underground Epic." I liked the word "epic" because my complete idea for the story is somewhat long, but it also sounds a little to self-important. So, if anyone can think of a nice general one-word name, I'm in the market for ideas. How bad is it to be changing the title like this? Well, I promise I'll settle on something. Eventually.  
  
**Brutal2003**: Thanks so much for your interest. I'll keep 'em coming.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** The Animorphs belong to K.A. Applegate. This belongs to me.

* * *

I felt a little bit uncomfortable morphing to human for the first time. Many Andalites would be able to do so without compunction, but I had completed a rudimentary study of human culture and history, and knew them to be a formidable and intelligent, if slightly primitive, race. It somehow seemed unethical to assume the DNA of another sentient being. But I needed to do it. And so I did my first human morph in the meadow outside my buried ship, as practice.

During my exploratory missions around the immediate area in the previous weeks I had acquired four different human morphs. Each had been alone and unaware when I rendered them unconscious, but I figured that they would attribute their situation to a falling branch, or the heat, upon waking. I was really trying not to attract attention to my presence.

Armed with a good selection of human DNA, I was able to combine it all into a single morph, which would be a completely unique DNA strand. I would have my own human identity, and it would be anonymous.

I initiated the morph in the shadows at the edge of the woods. The most obvious changes were the loss of my fur and forelegs, and the facial alterations. I lost my eyestalks, and gained the human's strangely shaped body parts on my lower face. One of these body parts is a nose, but a very unattractively shaped and relatively useless one. The other is what looks like a hole, and is what humans use to eat. I really don't think I've encountered any animal that has a head quite like a human's.

Despite all these strange features, the human has relatively weak senses. Smell and hearing are nearly useless. Eyesight is fairly useful in the middle of the day, when it is bright, but when you're an Andalite, and used to four eyes, it takes a while to learn how to focus.

As soon as I completed the morph, I took a step forward into the brightness of my meadow.

And I fell over.

It took me a few tries to determine how to balance myself in this body, with only two legs. It really is a strange biological design. I've never heard of a bipedal species without a tail.

I began to walk around my meadow, which seemed so much bigger now that I was a human. I was so _slow_ compared to my own body. I tried to increase the speed of my human body by moving the two legs faster and I fell over again. I made myself practice running as a human until I could run the width of the field without tripping or losing my balance.

The human morph had instincts just like every other animal I've become. They're very subtle though. For one thing, humans have a tendency to think about things. I've always been told that I'm too pensive. But really, it's nothing compared to a human. After I had expended most of my energy running through the grass, I collapsed in it, and the sun began to warm me, and I realized that it felt very good.

The last thing I tried to practice was using my mouth parts to speak. Humans do not have the capacity to use thoughtspeak, but they have developed a complex system of communication using sound. It is fairly ingenuous, when you consider the multitude of codes, or "languages" that have sprung from this practice of "mouthspeaking." I had uploaded several different languages into my translation chip, but unfortunately they were the ones spoken on the island continent that had been my original destination. I could only hope that in this part of the planet someone would be able to understand at least one of the languages I was able to speak.

Speaking with the mouth is interesting. A human uses several different parts of it's throat and head to produce a variety of different sounds. It would have been very easy for me to spend the entire two hours in morph experimenting with different human mouth sounds.

I would need to remember not to play with my mouth sounds when trying to communicate.

-----

"You see…. ssssseeeeee… sir, I am not from this city. SSsit-Eee." I've decided I really like the "s" noise that the human mouth makes. It's fascinating. But the expression on the other human's face told me that he did not find it to be so.

"Well, son, that was a little bit obvious by what you're wearing." He laughed haltingly. He was referring to the covering that human's typically wear over their bodies. I had learned that it was very inappropriate to appear in front of others without them. However, I could tell that the man was making a joke by the laughter sound that he was making. I laughed too.

"Hahahahahahahahahah!" I said, trying to inject it with as much enthusiasm as possible.

He stared at me for a minute before pulling up his sleeve to glance at a metal device strapped to his wrist. "Well, what do you know… It's time for my meeting already. It was nice meeting you…"

"Alco-" I began.

"…Whatever your name is. Have a nice day." He strode off so stiffly that I thought he might fall over. What a nice human.

I stood there for a minute, trying to decide what to do next. I had thought I had chosen a leisure spot, where humans would be spending their free time. It was a large building surrounded on all sides by the flat surfaces upon which humans keep their four-wheeled vehicles. Inside the building were many, many, units where the exchange of currency for goods took place. These commercial destinations filled long hallways and multiple levels. It was filled with humans. I had gotten some familiarity with their written language, so I knew that the sign on the front said "North Bay Mall."

I was really lucky, because one of the languages I knew was the one predominantly spoken here. The accent was a bit different, but after multiple conversations with random humans here I had begun to adjust to the local way of speaking.

I was disheartened by the lack of progress I was making. Most of the people I had spoken with had been unable to stay and speak with me for one reason or another. A lot of them had mentioned meetings they were attending. It was confusing, because I had assumed people were here on their free time, and everyone around me seemed in a hurry. Maybe I had been a fool to think that I would be able to integrate myself in human society so easily. I had not made a single contact, or seen any suspicious activity. I didn't even know what suspicious activity would look like. Everything that the humans did seemed strange.

My plan had been to morph human and speak with them- to try to blend in as much as possible. This in itself was proving quite difficult. I wished that I could approach someone and tell them my true identity. A nice human, who would help me in my mission. But I couldn't any one of the people walking past me as I stood there could be a Yeerk. So it was entirely up to me.

Still, scouting and spying is what I had been trained to do. Once I infiltrated human society, I could begin infiltrating Yeerk society. I could not do one without the other. Looking around, I spied an older female with a friendly face walking towards me, alone. I approached with a big human smile on my face.

"Hello! I was wondering if you could help me." This time I made a concerted effort to _not_ play with the mouth sounds.

She stared at me. "Fuck off," she stated, and she spun and walked the other way.

I did not know the meaning of that word.

From behind me, I heard soft laughter noises. I turned around to see a young human female sitting on a bench near a potted tree. She stopped when she noticed that I had seen her. She flushed, but made a sign with her hand that seemed to beckon to me. I walked over hesitantly.

"I'm sorry for laughing, it's just that I was waiting for someone and couldn't help but see what you've been doing. You aren't from the States, are you?"

I didn't lie to her. "No, I am not from around here. He-yeer." That last bit was completely unintentional, and I realized that I would really have to stop becoming distracted by the sensations produced by making mouthspeak. No matter how intriguing they were.

She smiled shyly. "What's your name?"

"Alcolrec."

"Oh. Is that Greek?"

I thought about it. I did not know where Greek was. "Yes. I am from Greek. I came here to learn… about the people who live here."

"Oh, ok, an exchange student. I'm Iris."

"Hello Iris."

"Alright, whatever." She wrinkled her face. "Are you living on a farm or something?"

"No. I live in this city. SSSSit…" I stopped myself. The "s" sound was so marvelous, but I knew this was not the time.

"What? Anyway, I thought maybe you came from a farm because you're only wearing overalls. And also because you aren't wearing shoes."

"Shoes."

"Jesus," she exclaimed. She picked up one of her legs and pointed at the strange black device on her foot. It had a cumbersome heel-spike. I wondered if she had a deformity, since it would clearly be impossible to walk on such a thing. "This is a shoe, Alec. Mind if I call you Alec?"

"I…"

"Yeah, okay. What do they call shoes in your language?'

"Ummm…. hü." My translator told me that this was how to say the word in Maori, the only other language I knew. I still was unclear what the term meant. I hoped that Iris would not realize that I was lying.

"Okay, cool. You seem really nice, and you're really cute…I love foreigners. Do you want to go get a drink at the food court?"

I did not know what "cute" meant. I also did not know what Iris was trying to do with the mammary glands on her chest. She seemed to be pushing them outwards at me, but I wasn't sure what to do about it. She kept glancing downwards and then back at me, trying to get me to notice. Humans are very difficult to understand.

"I would like to get a drink. A drrr..ink. What is that?" It was so hard for me to stop myself from playing with the mouth sounds. I kept doing it unconsciously!

"Come on. I'll show you."

"I thought you were waiting for someone?" I reminded her.

"No, I don't think he's coming. Let's just go."

Surprisingly, Iris was able to walk effortlessly, even with her strange "shoes." We walked down the hallway, past all the other shoppers. I was a little elated to be walking with another human. Finally I was fitting in.

As we walked, I noticed that the pleasant smell in the air was getting stronger. Human noses are quite dull, but this scent pervaded the entire mall and was difficult to ignore. I had assumed that the nice smell was piped in to enhance the environment of this commercial center. But now I realized that it was emanating from one of the booths.

"What is that?" I asked, pointing.

"A Cinnabon. You want to go there? I'm like, so addicted to their coffee."

"Yes. It seems like a fine establishment." Actually it looked small and gaudy, but I was curious about the origin of that wonderful smell.

Iris and I had to wait in a line for a few human minutes, while other consumers conducted the transaction. Finally it was our turn. Iris ordered two "iced coffees" and two "large cinnamon buns." Then both she and the woman behind the counter looked at me expectantly.

"Yes. That is what we want." I clarified.

"Aren't you going to pay, Alec?" Iris asked.

"I do not possess any currency."

Iris looked really upset. She sighed loudly and muttered something unintelligible before unfolding a little square that she brought out of her dainty purse and withdrawing a couple pieces of paper. The woman behind the counter took them and handed her a handful of round pieces of metal. Then we received a tray with what I assumed were "iced coffees" and "cinnamon buns."

"Those papers, they are valuable?" I asked as we walked over to a table.

"Yeah," Iris rolled her eyes. "I'm out like fifteen bucks now. I can't believe I had to pay for this shit! If I had known you weren't going to buy I woulda only bought one cinnabon."

"I apologize."

"It's okay."

I watched how Iris sat down behind the table on the platform with a back. It made sense when you thought about it. I had always found human legs to be really bizarre in the way they bent. But now I saw that they were designed to fit on these devices so that the body is able to rest. It's probably because humans feel so unbalanced on only two legs.

We sat there. Iris took a long thin device from the tray and removed its thin outer covering. Then she used it to puncture the top of one of the brown cylinders on the tray. She put the tip of the device in her mouth.

I did the same thing.

"Alec. What are you doing?"

"I'm…" What was the phrase? "...having a drink."

She giggled. "No you're not. I can tell you're not sucking the straw. You just have it in your mouth."

"Oh… yeah. Hahahah!" I laughed so that she could tell I was using human humor.

"Don't do that," Iris hissed. "It's creepy. People are looking!" She glared at me.

I barely noticed. I had used my mouthparts to apply suction to the cylinder at her suggestion and something liquid filled my mouth. I resisted my original urge to purge this foreign substance from my orifice, and used my human instincts to figure out how to ingest it. I knew that this was how humans obtained nutrients, I had just never tried it before.

I have never in my entire life experienced any sensation more pleasurable than that first moment of discovering the human sense of taste. To an Andalite it is absolutely foreign, and so quite difficult to describe. First, my mouth parts began to tingle with the coldness and sweetness of all the flavors. I forgot all about where I was and what I was doing as I concentrated on the incredible "iced coffee." My brain was solely occupied with the wonders and pleasures produced by this new sense. Then I began to feel very satisfied, as if all the problems in the universe had disappeared. Then I felt extremely happy, as my mouth and brain were bombarded with amazing new feelings and sensations. I sucked determinedly at the cylinder until the liquid was gone, and the suction from my mouth made a loud gasping noise. Only then did I remember where I was.

Iris was staring at me. Her mouthparts gaped open. "That's so obnoxious. I can't believe you."

I stopped applying suction to the iced coffee. "Iris, I need to taste… more things. What else is there to taste?"

She wrinkled her nose at me. "Well, you could start with the cinnamon bun I bought you." She picked up one of the brown, gross looking discs on the tray and pulled off a piece, casually dropping it into her mouthparts.

I stripped a large piece from the remaining disc. It was very soft and warm, and stuck to my hands. As I brought it to my face I felt a tingle of excitement. I could smell it, and I immediately knew that _this_ was the source of the heavenly smell that had been distracting me all afternoon. This… this _cinnamon bun_.

I placed it in my mouth and sucked furiously, allowing myself to drift away on it's mind-blowing taste. Eventually my human instincts came in and I realized that I would need to masticate the cinnamon bun in order to ingest it and absorb the nutrients. The chewing only enhanced the taste experience. I broke off another piece and stuffed it between my mouthparts. I let myself get lost in this new sensation I had discovered.

The next thing I knew, the tray in front of me was empty.

"More!" I said loudly, to no one in particular. "I'm taking this," I told Iris, as I leaned over and took her cinnamon bun.

"Go nuts," said Iris flatly, as she rolled her eyes.

It was probably a good thing that I was interrupted before I could completely finish the second cinnamon bun. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I completely lost control of myself. I'm almost afraid to imagine what might have happened if someone had not broken me away from the binge that was resulting from my first experience with a human sense of taste. But this was not exactly a good interruption.

"Who the hell is this, Alice?" a husky voice demanded.

I wondered who Alice was. The large young man, who had approached the table while I was distracted by eating, was addressing Iris but had mispronounced her name. When he slammed his fists down on the table I swallowed the large hunk of cinnamon roll in my mouth nervously. All my feelings of reverie vanished.

He turned to me. "What do you think you're doing with my girl," he looked me up and down, "you goddamned freak." He did not phrase this as a question.

I stood up, lost my balance, and had to sit down again. "We were just having a drink…" I began.

"Freakin' flower. I'll show you what happens to guys who hit on my girl."

He grabbed me roughly by the strap on my garment and dragged me towards the door. I was confused, and too scared to fight. I had no idea what was going on.

"Goddamned piece of crap. I'll teach you."

The sudden brightness of the sun blinded me. The male laid me out on the hard surface outside the exit and began pummeling me with his balled fists. I became as lost in pain as I had been lost in pleasure only moments before.

Faintly, I could hear Iris protesting. "I'm sorry Ray! You were so mean to me last night after we fought that I wanted to make you jealous._ I_ invited him to the foodcourt. He didn't know! He's Greek! Don't hurt him! Please, Ray!"

The world around me faded.

-----

Some cold liquid was splashed across my face. I woke up angry.

"Hey, buddy, cool it. The cops are coming to take care of that psycho. You're okay now."

I looked around frantically. A crowd of people had exited the mall to watch me get beaten. I wondered how long I had been unconscious. I wondered how much time left I had in morph. My usually reliable internal clock was out of sync from both the cinnamon bun and the beating.

My human body was badly wounded, but this would not matter, if only I could escape and morph.

The man who had revived me helped me to my shaky feet. I guessed that this was one of the few times where it was normal for me to not be balanced. I stood there, not speaking and embarrassed as I shook off the pain and regained my bearings.

"Thank you," I told the man who had helped me. "But I cannot stay here."

I was glad I had practiced running, because now the crowd parted in front of me as I pumped my two human legs and effortlessly broke into a sprint, desperate to escape the situation.

From behind me someone yelled "Run, Forrest, run!" and I heard the sound of laughter. They were laughing at me, the stranger, and I had failed. How could I ever become one of them? It was clear that I did not, and could not ever learn to be like a human.

As I ran, a strange thing happened. My eyes burned, and then hot liquid spilled out. As I ran, I passed several people walking towards the building from their vehicles but their faces and expressions were blurred because of the water clouding my vision. I didn't care. What was strange is that it felt good to have this wetness on my face, to be able to express my shame and loneliness so outwardly.

By this time I had reached the outskirts of the lot, and no human was nearby. I ducked into the space between two human vehicles and let the water pour from my eyes, purifying me. This was a human expression of sadness, but it soothed the Andalite part of my mind as well. And when the sobs stopped wracking my body, and I could no longer summon the tears from my eyes, all the sadness and confusion was still there and I was still alone. It was a hard sadness. A fact. It would be there until my people came.

A few human minutes later, a large black bird rose from the parking spaces of the North Bay Mall and flew swiftly away.

-----

It took a while for me to return to my hidden home in the woodlands. The bird morph I used was adept at distance flying, but even so I had needed to stop and demorph once along the way. I was very careful with the time limit on morphing. By this time the sun had mostly set.

But it was still bright enough for me to see with my scavenger's eyes that someone was there in my meadow.

* * *

**Author's note:** Here is the compulsory "Andalite morphing human" scene. This was really fun for me to write. It's probably a good thing Alcorec had spent some time studying about humans, otherwise I don't think he would have lasted that long. Remember, Ax didn't even leave the Dome ship unassisted.

I know this contains some strong language, so I may have to change the rating to "R." I know that that will take it off the main page, but hopefully people will still be able to find it. I just know that I can't complete this story without including a few details, so that means it's mature audiences only. Sorry.

**Questions:**

**Brutal2003: **I hope you enjoyed it.

**Wraithlord42**: If I end up touching up Chapter 4, I'd be interested in knowing what you thought needed clarifying. Its always different when you read something that you've written yourself, and something that seems really obvious to the author can fly over the heads of the reader. Thanks for your continuing interest.

**Korean Pearl**: Thanks for your kind reviews. I always try to add a healthy dose of reality to my stories, so I'm glad you find my plots original. About the rating- I'm hoping that people will find my story anyway if I make it rated R. I have to change the rating at some point to do the things that I want to with this story.

**Baranth**: I know absolutely nothing about astronomy. I had no clue how many moons Mars had. I'll have to go back and change that bit at some point. There's also another mistake in the first chapter that no one's called me on yet. I had "Semitur" as Alcolrec's middle name, when it is supposed to be Feiranel who is related to Alloran, and thus shares a name with him. But yeah, thanks for calling me out on that one. I don't have a beta reader so these little discrepancies slip by easily.

About anthropomorphism- that is not really the direction I'm taking this series in… sorry. The whole thing about writing animal DNA onto human DNA is just to facilitate the morphing process, not to make any major changes. Otherwise I'd definitely jump on the title you've suggested.

Finally, the Animorphs will become involved in this story, somewhere far down along the line. At this point they don't even exist as such- the Andalite fleet has not yet come, and Elfangor has not yet broken Seerow's Kindness. Give me time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: This is my original story, but it's KA Applegate's original idea

There were humans in my meadow.

They had erected a large flimsy structure at the far side of the meadow, something I had observed often while flying over other parts of the forest. I believe that humans use these structures for shelter when they are traveling in the forest.

In any case, after my harrowing day and long flight home, I was irritated to find them there. It was irrational of me, but I felt a great deal of anger at these humans, merely for being members of the species responsible for my disaster earlier in the day.

In the dying light, I could see that there were three of them sitting around the fire they'd built. Two of them were huddled together, and the third was suspending a long rod over the flames, cooking something small that smelled sweet, even to me, in bird morph. My mind flashed back to the cinnamon bun that had at once been the source of so much pleasure and shame. I banished the thought from my mind. You would never see me acting in such a manner again. It had been weak of me.

I was sick of the humans. With them in my meadow there was no chance of a late meal for me. I flew down to the concealed entrance to my ship and demorphed into my own body. I expected them to be gone by morning.

The cold interior of my ship was as unpleasant to awaken in as it had been for the last five human weeks. This particular morning I felt equally inhospitable.

A quick foray outside my buried home revealed that the human shelters had not moved from their position in my field. I had to use my bird morph to fly to another field nearby to obtain my morning repast. I was famished, and slightly disappointed in my fare. This field was not well hydrated, and the grass had bronzed in the heat of this late summer. But it would provide me with the nutrients I needed.

I spent the day working on my improved escafil device. Things had been coming along beautifully with the design, and I was now working on adding physical modifications to the existing model. This was tedious work, and I was not the best engineer. Still, progress was being made. I had had a lot of time available, living alone in this forest for so long.

The following day it became clear that the human presence in my field would not be as temporary as I had hoped. I decided to observe their activity, and hoped that I would be able to learn something more about humans, and thus aid my mission, despite the fact that I was still slightly discouraged by my previous failure.

I acquired another Earth morph for this task. It was a small rodent, and as I had anticipated, its sense of hearing and sight were more than suitable for my purposes.

I was surprised at how young these humans were. One of them, the dark skinned female, seemed barely more than a child. The male was larger, and obviously older, but he was several human years shy of full adulthood. The third human was also a female, and looked slightly younger than the male, with whom she was clearly romantically attached. One of the things that I had learned about humans was their desire for physical contact with others, particularly those that they had feelings for. The amount of touching that went on between these two was a textbook example of human affection.

In the morning the two females went bathing in a deeper part of the stream. Afterwards, they spread colored cloths on the grass and lay there, barely clothed, in the sunlight. Every so often the darker human would reach in her bag for a box, extract a small tube from it, and light the end on fire. It was a peculiar custom, one which the other girl sounded critical of.

I listened to them talk. They discussed their school, and their families. They talked a lot about other humans, often not very positively. To be honest, it was difficult to pay attention, as so much of their conversations contained no information of importance to me.

I crept back towards the tent, where the male was still slumbering away.

This wasn't very interesting to me.

Back inside the ship, I tried to focus on my job. I needed to find the location of the Yeerk headquarters, and also the Yeerk pool, but most likely these were one and the same. I needed to locate the Kandrona emitter. I needed to find out how many human hosts had already been assimilated in this city, and whether any other Earth cities were being threatened. And, in order to do all of this, I needed to become familiar enough with human society so that I could recognize Yeerk activity.

And I needed help.

There was no way I could ever complete even half of these goals without a human ally. I needed to find someone I could trust. Someone who could keep my secret. And most important of all, someone who was not a Controller.

Some Andalites claim that they can detect the presence of a Yeerk inside someone's head upon meeting them. I don't really believe this. Yeerks have learned to disguise their presence completely. Such detection is possible only if you have known the individual in question very closely, and even then it is difficult to be certain. How could I ascertain if a person I approached was a Human-Controller or not? It was extremely risky, and if I made the wrong choice, I would blow my cover and possibly lead to my death or infestation. I would die before a piece of Yeerk filth ever entered my head.

On my computer, I pored over reports written by scouts in situations similar to mine. One young scout had been sent to the Hork-Bajir homeworld in the early days of the Yeerk Empire, and had tried to make contact with the Hork-Bajir tribal leaders. Then the invasion had intensified, developing into bloody open warfare, and the scout mission had been aborted.

Approaching the leaders had been futile in that case, because the primitiveness of Hork-Bajir society had been a huge impediment to the development of any intelligence services or capable resistance. Would that strategy be effective here on Earth, or would it cause more harm than good? Any leader I approached in this area would be fairly high profile, and the chances of that person being a Controller, or watched by other human-Controllers, would be quite high.

I ran down a list of other options- scientists, artists, law enforcement officials, the military- and mentally dismissed them all. Always, always, the risk would be there. I would have to maintain a close watch on a potential candidate for a solid 72 human hours to ensure that they were not already involved in the Yeerk invasion and this would be somewhat of a challenge alone. What would happen when I needed to demorph and lost track of the individual I was watching? What if the target individual entered a building, and I had no way of knowing if it concealed a Yeerk pool, or following in animal form? It was a no-win situation. I needed a safe ally to learn about humans, but I needed to know about humans to ascertain that my chosen ally was truly safe.

Frustration swamped my thoughts and I was unable to devise a solution. It took me nearly two Earth hours to finally fall asleep.

After so much thought and angst the previous day, I was surprised how easily a possible solution entered my mind soon after awakening. The only human I could trust would be one that I knew was not a Controller, and the only way to ascertain this for a fact was to trail that individual for three days, the length of time it would take for any Yeerk to perish from Kandrona starvation. This would be extremely difficult in most situations. However, the humans who had taken possession of my meadow had been there for nearly that length of time, and showed no signs of leaving any time soon. They were not Yeerks!

The more I thought about this, the more it seemed like a good idea. At first I felt put off by their youth, but then I realized that that, in itself, had its advantages. Younger individuals, of all species, are much more able to suspend their version of reality, and maintain an open mind- two attributes that would be key in this situation. Furthermore, younger people are able to move about and do things which, being done by a mature human, would arouse suspicion. Finally, as their extended foray into my meadow proved, young people have less commitments and much more leisure time- again ideal commitments.

It would be a big risk. There were three of them, which was a mixed blessing. I would get that much more help, but I would have to provide that much more protection. If I used these young humans for my purposes, they could not ever become Controllers.

I could never tell them my secrets. I would answer their questions, and tell them what they needed to know, but there were some things that I must keep from every human. Even ones I selected as allies. They must not know the secrets of our technology, or of Seerow's Kindness- not the law but the reason behind the law. How could they give me aid if they knew it was my people who had brought the Yeerk plague upon them?

But was this ethical? Could I take three human youths and involve them in an intergalactic war? Would it not be wiser to select someone more mature and responsible?

I made my decision right then and there. You see, I am actually quite young myself. While I was studying human culture I translated my age in Andalite years into human years. Nineteen years old.

At dusk, I resolved, when it had been exactly three days since I first discovered their presence, I would approach them with a story, and a choice. It would be up to them what they would decide.

**Author's Note**: This one's a bit late. Sorry! Writer's block! This one is short, because I reached a natural ending point and decided to cut it there. The next chapter, which I have already started working on, will be good.

Please note that I've made minor changes to Chapters 1 and 4 at the suggestion of some of my reviewers. I'd like to thank everyone who's offered feedback thus far.

**Korean Pearl, Wraithlord42, and Brutal2003**: I'm glad you guys enjoyed the previous chapter. I have a bit of a dry sense of humor, so I wasn't sure how well my little jokes would go over. Thanks for stroking my ego.

**Wraithlord42**: I'm repeating excerpts from the email I sent you, for the benefit of others who might be curious. To be honest, I was not aware that "Model-22" was the name of a legitimate Andalite ship design! I made the term up out of thin air tosound more technical. (I read TAC a loooong time ago, and don't remember much of the details.) I've rewritten it so that the scout ship is a Model-16, because it's supposed to be really out-dated. On morphing technology: Feiranel and Alcolrec obviously view the morphing technology very differently, and this is the source of your confusion. Feiranel, a warrior, scorns it because in the type of modern warfare being fought by the Andalites, being able to morph is nowhere near as valuable as being able to fire a shredder. Of course, the Animorphs employ morphing so successfully in their battles only because they are guerilla fighters and it is the only tool they have. However, in the type of confrontations that usually take place (think the land battle on Leera), morphing might indeed be said to be "obsolete." Alcolrec, on the other hand, as a scientist and scout, obviously recognizes the Escafil device as an ingenious piece of technology at the forefront of scientific thought, and also as a tool with innumerable uses when scouting. **Birdie Num Num**: I'm glad you like it. I'm really impressed with your work as well. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning**: This story has been officially upgraded to an "R" rating for sex, drugs, and language. Be prepared.

**Disclaimer**: Give credit where credit is due; this is KA Applegate's original concept and I've just irresponsibly corrupted it.

* * *

It had gotten dark much earlier than usual; the overcast sky made the landscape greenish and unreal. I felt a tremor of uncertainty as I assumed my human morph near the edge of the woods. If I had had my way, all three of the humans would be present when I revealed myself to them, but unfortunately the younger dark girl had been sitting down by the stream all afternoon, inhaling smoke from her cylinders and utilizing a pole-apparatus to procure scaled marine animals from the water. It was an interesting ritual, but I knew from earlier observation that these animals would be killed, heated, and consumed.

I felt very self-conscious as I strode towards the flimsy human dwelling. After three days of concealing myself, to be appearing so openly seemed bizarre. The insects, invisible to my human eyes, were producing a buzzing melody that was the only detectable sound. The two humans had disappeared into their shelter a few minutes ago, but I could hear neither movement nor speech emanating from the thin fabric.

It was also strangely elating to be doing this. I have to admit, I had played out many possible scenarios in my head in anticipation of this moment. Would these humans be sympathetic to my cause? Would they even believe me? Would I be manipulated by them as "Iris" had done the other day? Would the aid they could give be useful?

One thing that I had not considered was what to do if they were not immediately approachable. As I came closer to their shelter, I observed that they had used a toothed mechanism to seal the only entrance. What was the protocol for entering and making my presence known.

I stood there awkwardly in my human form, considering different options. I could hear only slight rustling noises from inside the dwelling. After a few minutes, I realized how foolish my indecision was making me. Did I expect some miraculous opportunity to suddenly present itself? I was letting my apprehension and fear take control, instead of taking action. I had been waiting for this moment all day.

I took a deep breath, and unsealed the entrance to the shelter, softly calling, "Hello," to warn it's occupants of my presence.

The first thing I noticed was that neither human was wearing clothes, and both were tangled in bedding.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" the female screamed loudly, frightened.

"Ahh! What the fuck?!" shouted the male, angry.

"Ahhhhhh!" I echoed involuntarily. I did not have complete control of my human body, and apparently this is a normal human reaction to something shocking.

"Jesus! You fucking gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing here!?" The human male still sounded angry, and his face had become an alarming shade of red. My mind flashed back in time to "Iris's" companion, and his violent actions. I knew very well how dangerous the anger of a human male could be.

But this individual seemed more concerned about his lack of apparel than attacking me. He was scrambling in the far corner of the tent, throwing garments to his female companion, who was huddled under a blanket, and simultaneously attempting to put on his own set of artificial skin.

"Who the hell are you, and what do you think you were doing? Were you watching us?" he spat lividly.

"Uh….. no. I came… because I needed help."

"Don't you know people close up their tents when they want privacy?" the male hissed.

At the same time, the female, obviously distressed but seemingly less angered, spoke for the first time. "Drew, he needs help. Don't be such a dick." She had already assumed proper human attire, and cast off the blanket which had sheltered her modesty.

He turned back to her, and with considerably more tenderness said, "Hey, Bel, I know. But it would have been much more appropriate if he had decided to come for help in like an hour."

She laughed. "You wish. Fifteen minutes at the most."

Drew's face had lost it's color as his anger had dissipated, but now it flushed red again. He turned back to where I stood, still framed in the half open entrance to the "tent." "Okay, what did you say you wanted?"

"I… um…" I had rehearsed saying this line multiple times inside my ship, but now it seemed ludicrously inappropriate. I had interrupted an intimate moment, and spoiled our first interaction. I decided to give up on this idea. It was silly. "I just… needed some water. That's all."

Drew looked at me skeptically.

At that moment, I felt something brush my shoulder. I turned to see the other female, the one with darker skin, who had probably come to see what the source of the screams had been. I hadn't realized she was so short. She smiled briefly at me and said "Hey," then peered under my arm inside the tent. "What's going on?"

Drew made a snorting sound. "Mr. Farmboy here needed some water. Did the stream out there dry up or something?"

"No," she snorted, "But I lost a fairly big trout when I had to run up here and see who was getting killed." These humans were speaking words I understood, but they made no sense. Trout? Killed? "I still have a few smaller ones that I landed earlier. Don't worry, Drew, you'll get your dinner."

Drew didn't look very worried. In fact, his eyes were still glaring angrily at me.

"Sorry that I interrupted," I mumbled. The darker girl smirked. "I think I need to leave now." As I turned, she sidestepped to get out of my path. I felt the heavy cloud of shame descend once again. This had been a silly idea, and poorly executed on my part. I would need to come up with another plan. One that would actually work. And I needed to stop ruining every encounter I had with humans. I walked away slowly.

"Wait!" a voice called.

I glanced over my shoulder to see the first girl, still half wrapped in a blanket, beckoning me back.

"Hey, you! Are you alone?"

I turned back towards her, but refrained from making eye contact. I didn't really understand what she wanted. "Yes."

"Why don't you stay and eat with us?"

Drew's face appeared beside her from inside the tent and hissed something into her ear. I only caught the phrases "douchebag" and "not enough fish." The girl seemed to ignore him. "What's your name?"

"Alcolrec-Sharnit…" I trailed off. Andalite names could be confusing to humans.

"Ok, well, you'll probably have to tell me that again. I always forget names, especially foreign ones. I'm Bela, and this is my boyfriend Drew and my friend JJ."

"Nice to meet you," I said, blandly uttering the standard response I knew from my studies.

"Come on back. You can help us cook."

We made small talk as the meal was prepared. I tried to avoid the topic of my background. I hadn't decided if I wanted to go through with revealing my true identity to these people, who were still effectively strangers. If they thought this was strange, they didn't show it. I learned from Drew, who actually turned out to be quite friendly, that they were about to begin another term of their education, and had obtained permission from their parents to spend a week "camping" before they got "railroaded into a new fucking school year."

Human speech is strange. Andalite thoughtspeak is very concise; ideas are expressed as efficiently as possible to make the message understood. In the human spoken language, they liked to insert words such as "like" and "fucking" and "damn" which served no purpose linguistically, and served only to add emphasis to the phrase. Although the use of those words differed greatly from sentence to sentence. I wondered if humans added these words because they too enjoyed making mouth sounds.

"Why are you out here, all fucking alone?" I asked Drew. We had just finished collecting dry underbrush and wood from the forest, and were now in the process of creating a "bonfire." The girls were gutting and cleaning the fish.

He looked at me a little strangely. "Well, the girls told their parents that we'd be going with my dad, and my dad just didn't give a shit. He's kinda a bum."

"Oh, yeah. Is it okay for you to be here, so young?"

"We're about as young as you, Alcolrec. Man, that's a name. You must be pissed at your parents about it."

I thought of my parents, back on the Andalite homeworld. I never really got along well with my father; we always had differing opinions about everything. But my mother was a caring, good female, and we had always gotten along very well. I wondered if they thought I was dead. Would my father be proud that I had died in battle? I realized that I missed them. Both of them.

Drew wasn't deterred by my silence. "You need a nickname, man. Everyone's got a nickname, and you definitely need one badly. My full name's Andrew, but only teachers call me that. JJ actually has some Indian name, and Bela's short for Belladonna, which is her middle name. Her real name's Sarah." He made a face.

"I guess… what would be a good nickname?" I asked him. As I spoke, the flame flickered to life under Drew's experienced hands, and the small fire began to crackle and hiss.

"We could call you Al." I didn't really like that name, and I guess that sentiment was reflected on my features, because Drew provided other suggestions, "Cole, Rick, Alc, Alec…"

"Alec…" I thought back to "Iris." I did like the sound of that name, but it would always be tainted by memories of that experience.

"Ok, so, Alec it is."

And so Alec it was.

"So how old are you, Alec?"

"Ummm…. Nineteen." This was my age in Andalite years, and I thought it would be close enough to the age of my human morph.

"Oh, I would have pegged you as being a bit younger. I'm sixteen, and the girls are fourteen. They're just starting high school."

I nodded my head as if I knew what that meant. Drew kept questioning me. "So are you in school?"

"No."

"Umm, ok."

We worked in silence for a while. The fire grew in intensity until it roared, and the heat felt good on my face. It was night by this time.

JJ walked over to us from the area where they had been treating the "fish" bodies. On a plate she carried five hand-sized shiny drippy oblong objects covered in herbs, which I took to be the marine animals. Bela was right behind her with a little gas stove.

"I thought the fire would be used to warm the meal." I said, confused.

"Haha, no. The fire's just for fun. Atmosphere. You know."

"And it's a convenient lighter," JJ added, extracting a cylinder from a box in her pocket and holding it to the flame until the end glowed.

"Isn't it bad for you to inhale smoke?"

"Yeah, I'm probably going to die. Who cares? These guys always give me shit about it though." She grinned, showing her white teeth. "They don't seem to mind other types of smoke though." She pulled out a small case from her bag, and opened it, showing me a green plant in a bag and a few other objects. "You guys wanna light up before we eat?"

"Yeah, roll it now," Bela answered. She looked at me, "You smoke?"

"Yes." I had never tried anything like this. I had also never eaten animal flesh before. Andalites are herbivorous. But I wanted to try to live as these humans do.

"Cool. I'll roll a big one then." JJ crossed her legs and got busy with some of the items from her little box.

The smell coming from the cooking fish was amazing. I was a little excited about what would be my second culinary experience as a human.

Drew left momentarily to enter the tent, and returned with several large flat square objects and a brown paper bag. I soon found out that the flat objects actually unfolded to become chairs, providing a convenient and comfortable way to sit around the fire. "Thank you," I told Drew when he offered one to me. From the brown bag, Drew took out other foodstuffs. "Junk food!" he announced, noticing that I was observing his actions.

JJ had finished what she was doing; the final product was a long thin pink cone. "Strawberry papers," she said to me, as if that explained it all. Drew rolled his eyes. She stuck the end of it into the fire, lighting it expertly. Then she rose from her position on the ground, unfolded a chair, and collapsed into it, taking a long drag on the small end of the cone. The end of it glowed intensely orange, and thick smoke curled around her fingers. She took a few more puffs, exhaling huge clouds of the bluish, strangely-scented smoke, and leaned over to pass the thing to me.

I tried to imitate what JJ had just done. Bela was watching me. "Next time try to inhale into your lungs," she told me. I did as she said and nearly choked. She shook her head, "You're still not doing it right." But she was smiling, so she wasn't angry. I passed it to her.

"We don't smoke that much during the school year," JJ explained. "It's more of a recreational thing. We're not potheads."

I nodded. My human body was feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

I almost didn't notice when it was my turn again. "Hey, Alec, take the joint," JJ said as she leaned over to me. I guess I was a little slow to react, because she stood up and walked over to give it to me. As I inhaled, she quickly and forcefully hit me on the back. I sucked in a huge breath and it burned a little. I had to cough. "Why did you do that, JJ?"

She smirked. "Virgin lungs. Poor guy. You just needed to take a deep hit."

I passed the joint to Bela again, feeling slightly ill.

Bela smoked it with a big smile on her face. She took a couple draws on the pink joint and handed it to Drew. "I think the fish is done," she announced, leaning over the little stove to check.

"Perfect timing," said Drew, exhaling.

It was the best thing I'd ever eaten. The fish was so good. I loudly complimented Bela, and she rewarded me with a large share of the fifth piece, which we all had to split. Then I ate a very sweet piece of fruit called an "apple." Which was also delicious. Then the four of us ate a bag of very salty food called "Doritos."

JJ was telling me about her parents. "Sometimes I'm glad they're so busy all the time. They really respect my independence. I don't even think they know I smoke cigarettes."

"Yeah right," Bela snorted.

"No, really. My mom's a lawyer and my dad's an airline executive, so they both work long hours. They pretty much leave me and my brother alone. My dad's a workaholic, I guess that's why he's worked his way so far up in the industry. You know he was born in a town that had no electricity or running water?"

"No," I told her.

She laughed, "I was being rhetorical. Well, my dad worked his way up out of poverty in India, did well in technical school in Calcutta, and was accepted to Harvard business. Now he practically runs the company here in San Franscisco."

I think JJ wanted me to be impressed. But I was actually considering the likelihood that her father, as an important businessman, had already been infested by a Yeerk. For some reason, I had a sudden urge to tell her. Warn her.

I had been waffling all night about whether I should involve them in my struggle. They were very nice, but they were very young.

The initial light-headedness I felt had subsided with the consumption of the food, leaving me feeling relaxed and satisfied. I didn't want to ruin the moment. I felt somehow if I told them that their planet was being stealthily invaded, the wonderful mood we had created would be shattered. I didn't know what to do.

"My parents are both cool people. My mom's from the midwest, and she's kinda a hippie. She works for some tree hugging law firm that does environmental stuff. She works really hard and she's weirdly passionate about all the shit she does. Saving the planet and all. Do you know what?" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I think both of my parents still smoke weed. I know they did it in college, but I bet they still do now. You should see some of the people my mom works with. A few of them look like total potheads."

The logic she had used didn't make much sense, but I nodded along with the others. I thought it was amazing that these absolute strangers had embraced me so effortlessly. I felt somehow as if I belonged with them. Belonging was like a warm feeling that flooded my entire body. To be able to talk and interact in such a close way with others after such long periods of isolation was soothing.

We sat and talked, and time flew by, until suddenly I realized I would need to demorph. I started to stand up and make some excuse about needing to relieve myself when I just stopped. It was like the world stood still. In one split second, I had made my descision.

"Hey, Alec, you gotta leave or something?" Drew asked.

I'm not really an impulsive individual. I like to think things out, and plan. Spontaneity leads to sloppiness and mistakes. You must always consider the consequences of your actions.

Maybe it was the "weed" I had smoked with them, or maybe it was the feeling of belonging I had with these people who had shared a meal with me and offered me their friendship, despite such awkward beginnings. I was feeling gravid with the momentousness of what I was about to do. I sat back down.

"Listen. I have not told you where I am from, or what I am doing here, and you have been very nice not to ask," I began.

Bela smiled. "I've been waiting for this, oh mystery man." She giggled.

But I needed the tone to be serious. What I was about to say was very serious. I felt guilty for ruining the mood, but at the same time I felt very strongly that I needed these people, and that they could help me. I would tell them as much as I could.

"I told you that I needed help when I first met you and this is true." Drew coughed suddenly, and I ignored the interruption. "I do need help. I need to learn about your ways and customs, and become as much like you as I can."

"Yeah, we guessed that you were foreign or something," JJ said.

"I am not a human." My words hung in the air, like smoke.

Drew let out a huge guffaw. He's a large guy, so the sound resonated and was very startling. "You are sooooo stoned, Alec. You're crazy."

So I _showed_ them. Stalk eyes emerged from my head and a second set of legs materialized from my midsection. I felt their eyes on me, watching the changes and saying nothing. It took only a few minutes to complete the change, and the eyes of my human friends had grown steadily wider as I assumed my natural form. I was an alien to them. They stared at me, the Andalite, in disbelief.

(This is who I am. My name is Alcolrec-Sharnicar-Taguara. I am an Andalite.)

JJ stood up slowly. If she was afraid of what I had become it did not show on her face. "This is so cool. Can I touch you?"

I didn't really want her to touch me, but I would have felt rude saying no. (Yes.)

She put her hand on my flank and stroked the blue-tan fur. "You're soft."

"How can you do this? Change your shape like that, I mean." Drew asked.

(It is a thing most Andalites can do naturally.) This was my first lie to my new friends. I did not want to tell them about the Escafil device. I suddenly realized, with a shock, that if these human acquired the technology, they too would be able to make use of it. Advanced technology in the hands of a lesser race can be dangerous. This is why there is the law of Seerow's Kindness.

"Where are you from?" Bela asked.

I looked up at the sky, but the stars were obscured by the heavy summer clouds. (It is very far away from here. Even if you were able to travel with Z-space technology it would take at least a couple of human years to reach my homeworld.)

After this I was bombarded with questions. "What is that tail for?" "How do you eat with no mouth?" "How can you talk inside my mind like that?" "What is space like?" I answered their questions as best I could. But it was Bela who asked the question I had been waiting to hear.

"Alcolrec, why did you come to Earth?"

I didn't know how to explain this to them. They were still enchanted by the presence of this alien at their campfire, with whom they had unknowingly shared their fish and their joint. But I would tell them the truth. They needed to know it, even if it hurt. (I have come to this planet because it is being invaded. No,) I said, anticipating their next query, (not as you might imagine. It is an underground invasion. A silent invasion. These aliens, they are called Yeerks. The Andalites have been fighting them wherever in the galaxy they go. Yeerks are parasites. They assume control over the brains of those they infest, and use this host body to carry out the filthy agenda of the Yeerk empire. They have come to Earth to make slaves of the human race.)

I was looking at Bela as I said this. I watched the sheen of wonder leave her eyes, and I watched her face contort with concern.

(We call them Controllers, when they have been taken by a Yeerk. A Yeerk, once it has accessed the brain, has access to all their host's memories, and can emulate that person exactly. Their loved ones may sense slight changes, but they never guess that the person has become something different, that their every move is controlled by an alien parasite.)

I expected more questions, but the humans seemed quiet, almost sedated. I shifted my weight uneasily and tried to guess their thoughts.

"Why have you told us all this?" JJ asked suddenly.

(As I said, I need your help. I need to learn to be a human, to fit in as well as possible.)

"Why?"

(I am a scout in the Andalite military. Very soon a large fleet from my homeworld will arrive, to fight the Yeerks here on Earth. I need to get as much information as possible about Yeerk activity, and in order to do this I must pass as human first.)

JJ looked disappointed. "That's what you need? Guides?"

(Yes. That is why I came to you. To ask for your assistance. To give you this choice.)

Bela looked around, at her friends sitting around the blazing fire. Both Drew and JJ nodded, almost imperceptibly. All around us, the invisible insects hummed their song into the night.

"Yeah," said Bela. "We'll do it."

* * *

So, Alcolrec finally gets some human allies… What do you think?

I've been wanting to transcribe this story for years, so I have a lot of details I want to get down on paper. As a result, you get a chapter that is longer than a lot of people's completed stories. Sorry about that, but I haven't gotten many complaints about length yet, so I'm not going to worry too much. I'm glad so many people like this, and, as always, I'm really looking forward to your reviews, positive or negative.


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